


Old Recipes and Old Memories

by BotchedExperiment



Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Crying, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, Vomit Mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 15:38:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10028816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BotchedExperiment/pseuds/BotchedExperiment
Summary: Henry's flu messes with his emotions.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This WIP has been sitting in my one note since september and i finally decided to finish it. i didn't uh... realize it was going to get sad

Henry knew the importance of sleep when ill, he was a doctor after all. But unfortunately that same illness was what was keeping him from getting the sleep that he needed.

Henry sighed, running a hand down his face as he sat up in bed. It was early, very early in the morning and he had yet to fall asleep. The fever was constantly making him too hot, too cold. It made his skin sensitive and his muscles ache and he was giving up hope of ever falling asleep.

Soon, the sun began peeking through the window and he knew it was too late anyway.

All-nighters - he knew - were horrible for a person's health, but he still had to go to work whether he liked it or not and he could only hope that maybe he could sneak in a nap during lunch.

Dishes clanked in the kitchen. Abe must be up.

"Jesus, what happened to you?"

A perfect greeting to start the day, Henry decided as he walked into the kitchen. He offered a weary smile before plopping into a chair, lacking his usual class.

"You look awful."

A self-deprecating nod as he rubbed his eyes. "It came on rather quickly, I'm afraid."

It was true. He felt fine when he showed up at work the day before and by the time he got home, Henry felt like death. Ha. He'd had his fair share of illness in his lifetime, enough to know when he was, in fact, getting sick, but this one just showed up without warning. Ugh, he hated not being able to see something coming.

"Hope it's not that nasty virus going around," Abe said, pulling a pan from the cupboard before getting out pancake ingredients.

"Well, several people at work were coming down with it, so-"

"Oh no."

Henry just sighed and nodded.

"Well if you need anything let me know, yeah? You just spend today getting some rest."

"Actually…"

Henry's son pulled his attention away from the batter to stare at him, _in_ _to_  him, daring him to finish his sentence. "There's no way you're going to work with the flu, Henry. How stupid do you have to be to-?"

He only rolled his eyes at Abe. "Oh, don't -"

He sighed as his son interrupted him yet again. "I'm just saying that you should be taking care of yourself."

"I know how to take care of myself. You do realize that I'm a doctor, yes?"

Abe scoffed. "That's never stopped you from doing something dumb before."

Well, Henry couldn’t deny that.

He had already weighed out the pros and cons of going to work. He was good at keeping his germs to himself and they needed him anyway. They were enough people short as it was. He could rest when he came back home. He would be fine!

Abe was giving him a judgmental 'Are you really going to do this' look as they ate breakfast (what little Henry did eat) and he could swear he heard a mumbled "Can't believe you're actually being this dumb…" as he got dressed for work.

Jo had just called to say she was picking him up, and while he was feeling awful, he was good at making himself presentable. He wrapped his scarf around his neck (which only seemed to bring a stifling heat instead of its usual comforting warmth), went to grab his coat, and that was around the time Henry found himself losing his breakfast in the kitchen sink.

He spent a fair amount of time leaned over the sink, taking deep, breaths to push away the nausea. Abe went to his aide and Henry held up his hand to stop him as his stomach tensed. He retched over the sink, choking up juice and bits of pancakes, the sight of which made him want to throw up all over again.

When it was over, Abe helped lower his shaky body into a nearby chair.

"I'm calling Jo."

"Abe, no." Henry winced at the sudden hoarseness in his voice.

"Don’t even try to argue, Henry." Abe said as he went to grab the phone. "You're not going to work!"

Henry was far too exhausted to protest further.

\-----

"I'll try not to be offended that my pancakes made you throw up," Abe joked as he helped his ill father settle into bed. He grabbed the trash bin from under Henry's desk and set it next to him just in case.

He nodded, admitting, "It _has_ been a while since I've been this sick." Henry didn’t feel any more comfortable in bed. He felt like flinching every time the blanket so much as touched his heated skin and his stomach didn’t feel better either. He had the pleasure of watching how hard this bug was hitting everyone else, now he had to experience it himself. Oh, joy.

He didn’t realize Abe had left the room until he came back with an extra blanket. "You're shivering."

Henry frowned. "Oh, so I am." He was losing touch with his body. He hated being ill. He greedily pulled the extra blanket over himself.

"You ought to change into pajamas if you're spending the day in bed."

Henry exhaled as he lay his head against the pillows. "Later."

\-----

Henry slowly awoke to Abe wandering in after a while with a bowl in his hands.

"How you feeling?"

"Closer to death than I've ever felt," He said with a sideways smile, pulling himself up to accept the hot soup. Henry had experienced many illnesses throughout his lifetime, but that didn't seem to make this one any less awful.

"Yeah, yeah," Abe chuckled as he sat on the edge of the bed. "Being dramatic is gonna get you nowhere."

Henry sighed before taking a spoonful. It had a familiar taste and smell and warmed him in more ways than one. He knew this soup. He savored each sip as if it were his last, letting it soothe his abused throat and feeling relieved that it settled well in his stomach.

"Jo called while you were asleep, by the way."

"Did she? What did she want?"

"She was just asking if you were alright. I told her you've been worse."

Well, he wasn’t wrong.

Henry nodded miserably. "I would've hoped, after all this time, that I'd be a bit more immune to simple illnesses like this."

"Everyone gets sick, dad. Don’t forget that you're still human," Abe said with a scoff, patting his father's arm.

"Unfortunately," He said with a drawn-out sigh. "Wasn’t long ago that I was taking care of you when you were ill." Henry smiled, thinking about little Abraham giving him trouble and refusing to rest until Henry had to carry him to bed.

Abe only laughed. "Not long for you, maybe," he joked before nodding toward the bowl Henry was so focused on. "One of mom's old recipes, by the way."

Ah, so that's why it was so good. It made Henry want to savor it that much more, memories of his wife flooding his fever-addled mind and he couldn’t help but feel… well, he wasn’t sure how he felt. Nostalgia? Maybe. All he really knew was that he felt awful.

\-----

Abe stood, gathering the dishes and telling Henry that he'd let him get some more sleep. He stared in confusion as his father grabbed his shirt sleeve.

"Don’t go yet, please."

"Henry," Abe said seriously. "What's wrong?" It had been a long while since he had seen Henry so ill, so distraught.

"I miss her."

Oh.  Abe frowned and lowered himself back onto the bed. He could see tears forming in Henry's eyes. "I know. Me too."

"I _really_ miss her," Henry wiped at his face miserably, voice wavering.

"I know, Henry."

Abe stayed until his father exhausted himself with the tears and finally fell into a fitful sleep. He took the opportunity to take the dishes out and let Henry get the rest that he needed. He only hoped that Henry wouldn’t remember those feelings when he woke.

 


End file.
